Your room was dark—silent, undisturbed. Just as it should be at this hour. The only source of light came from under the bathroom door, casting a faint glow across the floor.

You had told him countless times to stop sneaking around at night. Especially without warning. But, of course, he never listened. If anything, you suspected he enjoyed it—watching you catch him, seeing the flicker of surprise in your expression, the way your cheeks puffed out in frustration when you dropped your weapon.

It amused him.

The bathroom door creaked open, and you stepped out, now dressed for bed. Exhaustion weighed on your face, your body moving slower than usual as you ran a hand through your hair.

Then—

"Did the loyal puppy walk you home again?"

A dark voice drifted from the corner of your room, smooth and low, laced with amusement.

You tensed, instincts kicking in as you immediately reached for the gun on your nightstand.

He already knew who you’d been with. Xavier. That’s who he meant by “loyal puppy.” Not that there was jealousy in his voice—just mild amusement, like he found the whole thing entertaining.

Your grip tightened on the gun as you turned, pointing it directly at him, but he only laughed.

"You should know by now that it’s me," he said, stepping into the faint light, his smirk deepening.